On Motherhood & Sanity

Monday, July 1, 2013

an ode to her

What if I told you there is no death. Would you believe me?

I doubt my reasons could reach you through the damp darkeness that ‘s wrapped around your hear at this moment.  What I feel to be an obvious truth would be of no comfort. That she, the one you miss, is with you, near you, around you and within you. That she is – as you weep for her- trying to comfort you. Like she did many times before when you fell, stumbled  or cried.

This is much worse you say.

But to her it is not, now that she is prevy to the enormity of love and the shallowness of  pain. Now that she knows it is but a whisper that  separates you. That she can’t miss you because there is no distance between you. Now that she knows that your separation is no more real than when as a child you cried because she left the room.

In the meantime. May your heart find comfort in the love she bathed you with and the years filled with  laughter together. May your soul find rest in knowing that she is no longer enslaved by a cruel error of nature, but free to roam. And may your broken heart heal and slowly limp again into laughter, nurtured and cared for by the fruits of her love.